At my sons very first dentist appointment, I’m standing at the counter filling out totally unnecessary medical history on a 4 year old (i.e. ‘history of alcohol abuse?’, ‘depression?’, ‘have you ever been diagnosed with anxiety?’). I wanted to ask the receptionist if these were questions about ME (in which case, YES, to all of the above - I’m a mother, after all).
As I’m yelling at said 4 year old while he is across the lobby destroying some wood tree house sculpture, feeling secure that my 8 month old baby is strapped safely into her stroller behind me…. (and for once feeling like just “maybe” I have things under control)…I hear “ma’am, is that your baby crawling down the hallway??”